A bit of a more horror-centric caption I've had on the backburner for a long while. Hope y'all enjoy it :3
Art By: ゼツレッド
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The rusty metal of the gate groans under Rachel's weight as she swings her leg over the top. She hops down to the other side, landing in a patch of overgrown weeds that get trampled beneath her boots. The light rain plasters strands of her platinum blonde hair to her face and has turned the patches of dirt into slick mud. Before her stretches a sprawling expanse of decaying grandeur, a stain on this little West Virginian town. The long abandoned mental asylum stands, a monolithic structure composed of cracked stone and boarded up windows which looms in the misty distance before her.
Now why would a young woman willingly enter an abandoned mental asylum all by her lonesome? Well Rachel made a living keeping a blog where she would talk about the history of these long forgotten places. The one she was currently at, the New Eden Asylum, was built to rehabilitate people that were deemed as sexual deviants but seeing as patients almost always came out worse than when they went in this place was shut down and its legacy swept under the rug away from history books.
The gravel, which has slowly been being reclaimed by nature, crunched under Rachel's boots as she walked along its path. She pulls a small camcorder out of her jacket’s pocket and begins recording. Her camera captures everything from the forgotten benches with their paint peeling off to the moss covered silhouette of the asylum. The patter of rain is soft against the ground and harsh against the stone and exposed metal. This was the exact sort of atmosphere her followers craved, palpable sense of weary dread, long buried history ready to be unearthed, and bone-chilling thrill.
Rachel approached the asylum’s entrance, the heavy oak doors rotted due to the decay of time slightly ajar. The gentle wind caressed the door, causing it to ever so slightly sway back and forth on its hinges just enough for the shrill creaking it made to pierce the otherwise calm sounds around her. She pushed against the doors which were considerably heavier than she imagined they would be and entered the asylum. A wave of stale, cold air washes over Rachel as she enters the asylum followed by a distinct scent of dust, mildew, and the faintest remnants of antiseptics. It's dark, the greyed out sun leaking in not nearly enough to allow her to see anything so she turns on the light on her camcorder. It's light slices through oppressive gloom giving her the chance to check out the reception room she found herself in. The floor is a cracked checker tiling and the only real thing that fills up this mostly empty room is the receptionist desk. She moves deeper into the building, panning her camera as she steps so she can see where she’s going.
Now Rachel had explored old abandoned buildings many times before so she knew that the one real danger that came with all of this was the potential to trip a still powered security alarm. But seeing as she saw no trace of electricity coursing through what appliances and lights remained she knew it was rather safe as she pushed the door open that led from the reception room to the rest of the asylum. The corridors, far removed from any windows, are nearly pitch black save for the occasional break in the ceiling that lets the faded sunlight and rain sneak inside. She continues down the long corridor, gathering video of the peeling floral wallpaper and various cells and medical supplies as she does. She eventually reaches a branch in her path with the hallway continuing on forward, mostly unimpeded, but the path to her left is choked with fallen debris. Ahead of her however, past the imposing brass-handled doors she could hear a faint metallic tapping noise. It was rhythmic, the soft sound of metal grinding intermittent with short-lived moments of silence. She knew it was most likely just a branch tapping against a window or a half-fallen light fixture brushing against a wall as it swayed but it was still enough to put her on edge until she confirmed exactly what it was.
Rachel slowly, cautiously approaches the set of double doors and ever so gingerly pushes them open. She winces as they creak, the shrill sound grating in her ears. But she manages to get the doors open just enough so that she can peek inside to see- Rattling with the gentle wind from a large hole in the wall, a metal bar hanging from the partially destroyed ceiling taps and scrapes against a cracked window. Rachel let out a deep sigh of relief, she knew that this was the most likely case for what was causing that sound but the confirmation puts her at ease. But the very moment she lets her guard down, feeling as at peace as she could exploring an old mental asylum, hands reach out from the darkness behind her and grab her. One grimy hand clamps itself over her mouth that steals her breath from her lungs while the other scoops her backwards by the waist. The sudden surprise causes her to drop her camcorder, erasing her sense of sight as the lightbulb shatters and fizzles out. She struggles violently, her screams muffled into a whimper as the calloused hand holds on tight to the lower half of her skull. She’s knocked prone, falling forward with the weight of her assailant pinning her to the ground.
“Shuh now my patient.” A voice rasps from behind her. “You’re not supposed to be out of your room. The doctor’s gonna have to discipline you!” The man spoke with delight as he spoke, his mannerisms a shallow echo of a singsong voice.
Rachel feels a sudden prick in the back of her neck followed by weakness and dizziness. Before she knows it she’s laying limp on the disgusting, cold floor as she loses consciousness.
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Rachel is abruptly pulled back into focus as the seat she found herself rattled across a worn down part of the floor. She could not see, instead new sensations slowly barraged her as she came to and the numbness wore off. A constant, grating vibration rattled through her body as the squeak of a misaligned wheel echoed in her ears. She tried to move, to grab the piece of leather wrapped tightly around her eyes but she was immediately met with restrictive failure. Her arms were down by her side, cuffed to a metal bar in front of her. Her legs too were bound to this bar, forcing her into a sort of leaned back squatting position as her knees were pulled up to chest level but the calf of her legs bent back down so that her ankles could be cuffed to the rod. She tried to call out, speak, say anything but a thick, unyielding bit gag forced her mouth wide open, making any sound beyond a guttural moan impossible. The leather blindfold dug into the back of her neck, secured as tightly as the bit gag yet several times better at stripping a sense from her as she was lost in complete darkness. She then noticed that her skin tingled with goosebumps as a profound chill caressed her bare body. Her damp clothes are gone, leaving her in just her bra and panties which did little to protect her from the cold, humid air.
But that wasn’t all. Slowly but surely an unwanted sensation made itself known. Their humming, though audible before, was masked by the rattling and creaking of the wheelchair. She felt a pressure against her nipples, pulsing with a low, maddening thrum and held in place by the cups of her bra. Then, that very same invasive vibration could be felt deep within her. Vanishing within her warm, womanly folds and behind her sphincter were more thrashing invaders. The trio of stimulation were a horrifying, forced arousal that made her predicament a living nightmare to wake up to.
From behind her a low voice cuts through her hazed state. “Ah, the patient is awake. Vitals seem… reactive.” He let out a disturbed laugh as he opened Rachel's wallet and pulled out her ID. “Let’s see… Rachel. Rachel Nichols. Age? 27. Five foot seven inches and 143 pounds.” He muttered out nearly every piece of information which her ID detailed before rattling off something completely deranged. “Admitted for… delusions of grandeur? No. Nymphomania. Treatment? Hmm… Patient requires… intensive therapy.” He chuckles again, his dry laugh grating against Rachel's ears and piques her nerves. She jerks against her bindings and tries to scream but he ignores her and continues. “Don’t worry, Rachel. Doctor… James- uh… Culliver is here to treat you. We’ll break that nasty habit of yours one way or another.”
She’s pushed for a little while longer, surely deeper and deeper into the labyrinth like asylum until suddenly the wheelchair lurches to a halt. Over the incessant humming that torments her sensitive bits she hears heavy footsteps walking away from her followed by the scrape of a metal door sliding shut. C-THUNK
“Time for your… preliminary injections, Rachel.” The man's voice is calm, detached from the scene before him.
Rachel flinches as, without warning, cold metal pricks her sensitive areola. A sharp, burning sting spreads from the point of injection, followed by a creeping, deep warmth which makes her nipples pucker up into a tight, achingly hard nub. She hears a few steps as he walks around behind her followed by the same procedure being done to her other areola. The next injection is lower, and the sensation is far more invasive. He shifts the fabric of her panties to the side, exposing her pussy and anus to the stale, chilly air. “Gah!?” Rachel bites into her gag as the needle pierces the tight ring of her sphincter. A fire seems to bloom from the injection site followed by a deep, throbbing heat that causes the muscle to swell and puff outwards. But that wasn’t the worst of it as Rachel felt the man's calloused fingers spread apart her sex to expose her most sensitive nub. She tried to plead, to beg for what she knew was about to happen but her struggled grunts fell on deaf ears as a sharp stab of the needle could be felt in her clit. It was a blinding, white-hot agony that quickly melted into a maddening, pulsating heat. She could feel her clitoris swelling, elongating as the drugs took effect. She had no idea just how big her now aching clit was but it felt impossibly large. It throbbed, poking free from her plump mons pubis and lazily swaying as gravity pulled down on it, causing it to sag.
“That is some… stunning results.” The man’s hot breath taunted Rachel’s now 5 inch long clit as he spoke. “That’s good progress.”
Rachel was blindsided by a sharp, wet snap of his finger against her freshly engorged clit. It was a jolt so intense that it bordered on agony and forced a high-pitched, strangled squeal from her throat.
“Excellent reflex response.” He notes with a detached satisfaction before groaning as he stands up fully. Before Rachel could come down from the intense sensation inflicted on her he grabbed the handles of the wheelchair and began rolling her to another destination. It wasn’t a long trip but as soon as they reached wherever he took her Rachel heard some belts and locks being undone before she was unceremoniously dumped out of the wheelchair and onto the floor. She didn’t have time to note the soft, padded nature of the floor before the man’s hands were on her, forcing her squirming body into a straightjacket. Rachel felt a sudden surge of adrenaline coarse through her, just enough for her to lash out, connecting her foot with his shin with a sickening thud. “Why you little!”
Rachel didn’t wait for him to act this time as she hopped up onto her legs and began blindly hopping her way in the opposite direction of the man. Her heart pounded in her ears, drowning out everything but the thought of escape. But it was short-lived. A great force collides with her from behind, knocking the wind out of her lungs. He had easily caught up with her and had tackled her to the ground, using his greater size and weight to pin her down.
“Resisistan bitch, aren’t ya?” His detached tone of voice was gone, replaced with a maddened anger which terrified Rachel. “I have just the thing for patients like you!”
Rachel felt the straps holding her bit gag in place loosen and before she could even think of screaming for help something else replaced it. A massive, rubbery object was forced into her mouth. It was huge! Stretching her jaws to their limits, pressing her tongue down and filling the entirety of her throat until she could only gasp for air through her nose. It too was strapped to her face, holding the gigantic dildo gag firmly in place. But before she could fully register this new violation the man yanked the hood of the straightjacket over her head, closing the entirety of her head in the stuff, suffocating canvas into the last bit of the straightjacket.
She was dragged, not led, back into the padded room. The man didn’t speak, the only thing Rachel could faintly make out was his heavy breathing from their brief struggle. He suddenly drops her onto the floor and all Rachel can hear is a heavy door scrape shut, followed by the sound of a metal bolt sliding in place. It was eerily quiet, save for the still constant humming of the eight vibrators laced about her body, now tightly squeezed against her due to the straightjacket, and her struggled gasps for air. The drugs have made every nerve ending a raw, exposed wire. The pulsing against her puffy nipples a relentless, torturous tease. The vibrations deep within her ass and pussy are a deep, invasive thrum that causes her body to convulse and shake in forced delight. And her impossibly modified clit, too long now to be protected by the soft fabric of her panties rubs against the harsh canvas material of the straightjacket, crushed against her fatty upper pubic area. And now she was all alone, left to gasp for air, writhing with unending stimulation until someone found her… if someone found her.